


could be yours

by weisenbachfelded



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jack is a single dad, M/M, Parenthood, background ralbert newsbians specs/romeo and finch/crutchie, davey crochets, davey teaches kindergarten, nonbinary albert specs crutchie as usual, they all go to ikea at one point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weisenbachfelded/pseuds/weisenbachfelded
Summary: When Jack showed up at movie night with a baby carrier in one hand, Davey was more surprised at how unfazed everyone else was than anything else. Davey simply stood frozen in the open doorway, blinking in confusion.orJack finds himself parenting a baby entirely alone. Or, so it feels, when his friends have their own lives, and their own relationships too see to. Davey is a kindergarten teacher - only, his job has become his life, and suddenly his friends have grown up and left him trailing behind.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Comments: 93
Kudos: 66





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is hugely inspired by many others! namely:  
> blue moon by illinoise  
> on a subway platform by jewishdavidjacobs  
> and near miss by rehearsal_dweller  
> read them all please! those are the rules!
> 
> there is a post for this fic on my tumblr @weisenbachfelded pls reblog it! or talk to me about writing on there xo

When Jack showed up at movie night with a baby carrier in one hand, Davey was more surprised at how unfazed everyone else was than anything else. Davey simply stood frozen in the open doorway, blinking in confusion. 

On closer look, Davey took in the baby in the carrier - a tiny thing, hardly a few months old, dressed in a faded blue striped sleep suit. Jack didn’t even seem to notice his staring. He looked exhausted, dark rings beneath his eyes and his shoulders drawn up, tense. 

‘Uh - hi, Jack.’ Davey snapped himself back to reality. ‘Come in, everyone’s in the living room.’ 

Jack responded with a weak smile, and hauled himself and the baby carrier into the living room. 

He was met with enthusiastic shouts, everyone waving and offering him drinks and snacks. Sarah and Katherine were curled up together on the sofa, intertwined all the way down to their fingertips. On the floor, Elmer and Race were engaged in an intense conversation that seemed to revolve around the guacamole dish. Specs was coming out of the kitchen, holding two glasses of wine intended for themself and Albert - although, Davey noted, Albert seemed to be far more interested in Race’s demonstration of some avocado-related mechanical concept than anything else. 

Jack responded to their greetings by raising a hand in a tired wave, and then placed the carrier on the floor. 

Race immediately abandoned his guacamole, walked straight over to Jack and picked the baby up, bouncing it gently onto his hip, where the baby nuzzled into him as if it had done so a thousand times.

Race brought the baby to sit with him on the sofa, and everyone crowded round. 

‘Hey!’ Race waved his free hand, batting the others away. ‘Don’t crowd her out.’ 

They obeyed, mostly drawing back. The baby was awake now, and being bounced up and down on Race’s lap. She was about a month old, Davey decided, still fragile-looking, her tiny hands curled into fists and flailing around with glee. 

‘Albert?’ Davey asked, trying to draw his friend’s attention from the baby. ‘There’s a baby. On Race’s lap.’ 

‘Yeah, that’s Louisa.’ Albert replied, as if it was obvious, not tearing their eyes from the baby - Louisa, Davey corrected himself. 

‘Why is there a baby on Race’s lap?’ Davey tried again, and this time was met with several stares. Katherine and Race exchanged a look, and many of the others looked away guiltily. Race stopped bouncing, and turned to face Davey - as much as he could with a baby on his lap. 

‘Am I the only one who didn’t know?’ Davey finally asked, trying not to sound as hurt as he felt. 

‘You were busy, Dave.’ Race said apologetically. ‘What with the end of term and all, we’ve hardly seen you.’ Davey bit his lip. Race was right. The end of the winter term meant he’d been spending most of his time putting together the winter showcase, which had meant long hours spent at school, and even later evenings holed up in his room planning lessons. 

(Despite his protests that he was Jewish, and he didn’t even know the words to any Christmas songs, Katherine knew that he’d done musical theatre in high school, and had put him in charge of organising three of the classes’ performances for the showcase. It had mainly included teaching two dozen first graders to step-click in time to ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ without all crashing into each other. The first rehearsal had ended in two scraped knees, three trips to the nurse, and tears from at least five of the kids. He loved them dearly, and loved teaching them - but not during the winter showcase.) 

‘Yeah - yeah, okay that’s fair.’ Davey admitted. 

‘She’s Jack’s.’ Specs piped up. ‘Isn’t she cute?’ She was, Davey had to admit. Although, that would have to wait. For now, he had about a thousand questions. He ran through them in his mind, trying to decide what to ask next to get some kind of a coherent answer. 

‘Can I get a drink?’ Jack asked, from where he was still standing in the doorway. 

‘I’ll get it for you.’ Davey replied. Jack followed him into the kitchen, where he leant against the counter, shoulders slumped over. 

‘What do you want to drink?’ Davey asked. When Jack opened his mouth, nothing came out, as though his brain was desperately trying to formulate a reply. ‘Wine?’ Davey prompted. ‘Tea? I think we even have orange squash somewhere.’

‘Can I get a coffee?’ Jack asked. 

‘Jack, it’s seven-thirty. You won’t sleep if you drink coffee now.’ Davey said, half-concerned and half-teasing, but only gently - he could tell that Jack was struggling. 

‘I won’t anyway.’ Jack gestured vaguely in the direction of the living room, from which he could hear the sounds of their friends cooing at baby Louisa. ‘Gotta have somethin’ to help me stay awake.’ Davey didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply gave Jack a grim smile and a nod, that he hoped appeared as understanding. 

Davey set about making Jack a cup of coffee - in the mug he knew Jack liked. It was orange, with an octopus on it, and fashioned so that the handle was one of the octopus’ tentacles. Davey hesitated over the uncorked bottle of wine sitting on the counter, then decided against it. He opened the fridge, and took out the milk - for Jack’s coffee - and the orange squash. He handed Jack his mug and poured himself a glass of squash. 

‘Thanks.’ Jack raised the mug to Davey, smiling a little. ‘I love this mug.’ 

‘Cheers.’ Davey replied, raising his glass in the same way Jack had done, a half-hearted toast. 

They sipped their drinks in silence, Davey uncertain of how to broach the subject he so desperately wanted to talk about. 

‘So you - you have a baby.’ Davey said, finally. He winced a little; he hadn’t intended to be so blunt. Jack just laughed. 

‘I have a baby.’ He shook his head, almost disbelievingly. ‘I didn’t mean to.’ 

‘Yeah, I wouldn’t have thought so.’ Davey replied. Jack laughed again, and Davey couldn’t help but smile back. ‘How did you - how come? If you don’t mind me asking?’ Davey said, tentatively. 

‘’S’okay. I don’t mind.’ Jack shrugged. ‘I had a one night stand, back in the - ’ he squinted, thinking ‘- spring, I guess? Before we graduated, anyway. Friend of a friend, I met her at a party, y’know the kind of thing. Didn’t think anything of it, at the time.’

Davey nodded, half-smiling. 

‘Anyway. I never spoke to her again, but two weeks ago I get this call, sayin’ did I have a daughter, and did I know where her mother was? And obviously, I’m clueless as to it. She must’a had her without me knowing, left her on the steps of a police station, in her carrier, birth certificate tucked in there with her.’ Jack sighed, and took a drink. ‘She knew my name, put it on the damn certificate, and they found me pretty easily.’

‘She didn’t even tell you she was pregnant?’ Davey asked. 

‘Not a word.’ Jack shrugged again. ‘I haven’t seen those college friends since I graduated, so...’ He trailed off. Davey nodded, understandingly. 

‘And you took her in? Just like that?’ Davey asked, trying not to sound as admiring of Jack as he felt. 

‘I had to.’ Jack said. ‘I mean - she’s mine, y’know? I couldn’t bear thinkin’ that she’d be all alone in the world without me.’ 

‘That’s impressive, Jack.’ Davey said. Jack scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. 

‘Nah, it ain’t. Havin’ a kid’s not such a big deal. Just a bit harder if you’re not prepared. Do you know how expensive baby clothes are? I mean, what’s the point if she’s just gonna grow out of them in a month or two?’ Jack laughed, full of fondness, and Davey did too. 

‘It’s definitely a big deal. Damn brave of you, as well.’ Davey pressed on. 

‘I just couldn’t leave her on her own. I know at least if she’s with me she’ll grow up surrounded by love.’ Jack said, softly, looking down into his coffee mug. ‘That’s corny. But you know what I mean.’ 

‘I do. You’re right.’ Davey nodded. ‘Couldn’t get a more loving family than that one out there.’ He gestured out into the living room, where he could just see Race and Albert playing an elaborate game of peek-a-boo with a babbling Louisa. 

Jack nodded, and sighed. He took a long drink of his coffee, and then just stared down into his mug. 

‘She’s a lovely baby.’ Davey said, a little lamely, if for nothing else, just to end the silence that had fallen between them. 

‘She is. She’s a goddamn monster, though.’ Jack said, though not unkindly. ‘Keeps me up all hours of the day and night.’ Although he was complaining, he was unable to stop a smile from pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

‘Did you choose her name?’ Davey asked. 

‘Nah.’ Jack wrinkled his nose. ‘Personally I think Louisa’s a bit... I dunno. A bit fancy. I call her Lou. For short.’ 

‘Lou.’ Davey repeated, under his breath. ‘I like that. It suits her.’ 

Jack smiled at that, evidently pleased. 

‘I’m glad you approve.’ He chuckled lightly. ‘I just figured I shouldn’t change it. Y’know, since her mom chose it. Might be important to her or something.’

‘Yeah, I get that.’ Davey said. ‘What about her surname?’ 

Jack rolled his eyes, and Davey got the impression that he had opened a whole can of worms. ‘I’m changing it to Kelly.’ Jack said, firmly. ‘I feel sorta guilty, but…’

‘She is yours.’ Davey filled in. 

‘Yeah. And it’ll make things like travel so much easier if we have the same name. Although, she looks so much like me already, I don’t think people’ll have trouble believin’ she’s mine.’ 

Davey nodded, smiling. There was something about the way that Jack looked a little dazed when talking about Louisa, as if he was already infatuated. 

As if on cue, a piercing wail came from the next room. 

‘Jack!’ A panicked voice called. 

‘I’m comin’, Race!’ Jack yelled back. ‘He’s worse with her than I am.’ He said to Davey, rolling his eyes and quickly draining his mug. ‘And that’s saying something. Thanks for the coffee, Davey.’ 

‘Any time.’ Davey replied, and followed Jack back out into the living room. Race seemed to have one method of coping with Lou: bouncing her on his knee. And when that failed, he was very suddenly wildly out of his depth. He was frantically trying to bounce Lou into tranquility, but she was having none of it, sobbing her tiny little heart out.

Jack swept her up into his arms, and cradled her there. She squirmed a little, but her cries quietened to a muffled whine. He murmured to her very quietly in what Davey supposed must have been Spanish. 

‘She needs feedin’.’ He explained. ‘You guys start the movie, I’ll be back in a minute.’ With that, he grabbed his bag and headed back into the kitchen. There was a flurry of movement as everyone settled down into their seats, shoving each other for space on the bean bags. Davey ended up on the floor, next to Elmer - which he thought was a little unfair, considering this was his apartment.

When Jack re-emerged, it was to a chorus of ‘aww!’s and cooing from the group. Lou was asleep on his shoulder, her tiny hands holding onto him. With a weak smile, Jack took his place on the sofa next to Race, looking weary. The next time Davey looked up at him, he was fast asleep, tiny frown lines still etched into his forehead. 

*

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jack and Lou.’ Race said the next morning, over coffee. 

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Davey replied, and found he meant it. ‘I’ve been a nightmare this week.’

‘You can say that again.’ 

‘Remind me never to let Katherine bully me into doing the showcase ever again.’ Davey said. 

‘It was a good showcase!’ Race protested. ‘I never thought I’d enjoy watching a bunch of kids sing out of tune for an hour, but here I am.’ 

‘Oh, I know it was a good showcase. Do you know how long it took me to teach Celia Lewis to step-ball-change?’ Davey recalled, smiling at the thought. 

‘She was good at it in the end. She’s got a bright future as a dancer.’ Race laughed. Davey sipped his coffee, still smiling. Race’s fingers drummed against the table. 

‘When are you going back to your mom’s?’ Davey asked. 

‘Tomorrow evening. Me and Jack are renting a car, so’s we don’t have to get the train down there with Lou, and Crutchie’ll go with Finch.’ 

All of Medda’s children went back home for Christmas every year without fail, and it seemed the arrival of a baby meant no exception. With four kids at home and three returning - one with a partner in tow - Davey knew the house was always busy, and couldn’t imagine the chaos a baby would bring. 

‘Has Medda met the baby yet?’ Davey asked. 

‘Nah, not yet. Only been two weeks since Jack’s had her. But she’s been on the phone almost non-stop. Watching Jack learn to change a diaper over the phone was priceless.’ Race said, stifling a smile. 

‘He seems like he’s got the hang of things pretty quickly, though.’ Davey noted. 

‘Yeah, he’s doing okay. Y’know, considering.’ Race said. ‘He loves her like nothin’ I’ve ever seen.’ 

‘I can tell.’ Davey smiled at the dreamy-eyed look that had overcome Race, and at the memory of that same misty expression that had been plastered all over Jack’s face the evening before. He found himself wanting to see it again, to catch up on the two weeks he had missed out of Jack and his daughter. He supposed he would, within time. He just couldn’t quite make out what it was that was causing his chest to feel a little tighter than usual, to ache, right in the center. 

*

Davey didn’t see Jack again before he went home for Chanukah. He had hoped that he would, when he came to pick Race up early in the morning. He had hardly been awake for more than ten minutes, standing in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand, when Race called out from the other room. 

‘I’m leaving, Davey!’ 

Davey dragged himself out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, where Race was stood, suitcase in hand, and his phone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder. 

‘I’ll see you soon.’ Davey said, through a yawn. ‘Give my love to the family.’ 

‘I will. Call me at some point?’ 

‘Yeah, sure.’ Davey said. He downed the last of his coffee, and then hugged Race. ‘Happy Christmas.’

‘Happy Chanukah.’ Race replied. From the other end of the phone, Davey heard a baby’s plaintive wail, followed by Jack’s muffled voice. ‘I’m coming!’ Race said, into the phone, waving to Davey as he left. 

As the door clicked shut, Davey hesitated for just a moment. Then, he rushed into Race’s room - the only one in the apartment with a view of the street below. Jack was beneath the window, leaning against the car, a quietly sobbing Lou in his arms. He had his face up close to hers, probably whispering into her ear. Davey watched as Race tripped over the front step, and hauled his suitcase into the trunk of the car. Race then nuzzled his nose affectionately against Lou’s, and got in the passenger side. Jack opened the door to the back seat, and bent down - probably, Davey thought, putting Lou into her car seat. 

Davey leaned against the windowsill, and watched the car as it drove away. It was odd, his relationship with Jack, and it always had been. Never quite friends, but always together, somehow. Davey knew Race from doing sport in high school. Race was Jack’s brother. The three of them ended up hanging out. Davey’s sister was dating Jack’s best friend. The four of them ended up hanging out. Over the past eight years or so, link after link had formed between them, always maintaining at least one degree of separation. Jack would always be better friends with someone else than he would with Davey. 

It made Davey feel like he was back in kindergarten, wanting so badly to be someone’s friend. Only, now, he couldn’t exactly ask outright. The fact that Jack was, to put it simply, incredibly attractive, also certainly did not help. There was a part of Davey’s brain that tended to switch off whenever Jack smiled, and his dimples popped out. Davey had discovered that Jack’s dimples were a kryptonite of sorts, way back when he was seventeen, and being faced with a boy as attractive as Jack generally made him feel a little confused, and a lot like he was going to pass out. 

Now, that feeling was rather subdued, hidden away by the fact that they were friends above all. Sure, if Jack asked, Davey would most definitely go there, but that one degree of separation made it just a little too weird for anything to ever even seem like it could happen. Besides, hooking up with your roommate’s brother was a recipe for disaster, in so many words. 

*

When Jack came downstairs late on Christmas Eve, Lou finally asleep in his bed, he found his siblings gathered around the sofa, where Race was sitting, on a video call with Davey. Jack lingered back for a moment, watching as Crutchie, Smalls, Race, and the younger kids clamoured for Davey’s attention. He could see just a sliver of the screen, Davey laughing and talking, sending Smalls into fits of giggles. His mom was leaning against the back of the sofa, and, though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her laugh ringing out above everybody else’s. She blew Davey an overdramatic kiss, and then came to join Jack where he was stood, leaning against the kitchen counter, and looking into the living room. 

‘She asleep?’ Medda asked, half a smile still lingering on her face from whatever joke Davey had told. 

‘Yep. Finally.’ Jack said, stifling a yawn. 

‘You’re doing a good job, baby.’ She said, and wrapped an arm around his waist. He rested his head onto her shoulder, and let out a deep breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding. 

‘You think so?’ He asked. 

‘Oh, I know so.’ She said. ‘You were as much a parent to those kids as I was.’ She gestured to Jack’s younger siblings. 

Jack sighed. ‘This is different.’ 

‘Maybe.’ Medda shrugged, nudging Jack’s head a little where it was resting on her shoulder. ‘But you love her just as much as you love them.’ 

It wasn’t a question, but Jack replied anyway. ‘I do, Mama.’ 

‘Then you’ll do a good job.’ She said, simply. They both watched as Davey was pushed to the side of the screen by his siblings, Sarah and Les shoving him out of the way to speak to everyone. Jack waved, just a little, to Davey. He waved back, causing Race to turn and see him standing there. Race beckoned him over, but he waved him away with a dismissive hand. 

‘I’m gonna go sit in the other room.’ Jack said, finally. 

‘You do that. You want a hot chocolate?’ Medda asked. 

Jack thought, for a moment, he might cry. The past two weeks had been phenomenally exhausting, and to have his mother treat him almost like a child again was all at once relieving and overwhelming. ‘Yes please. Te quiero.’ Jack said. She smiled, and squeezed his hand, very gently. 

‘Te quiero, cariño.’ She said. ‘I’ll come sit with you. We can talk about boring baby stuff.’


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another chapter. just cause i love this

There was little else to do, Jack supposed, when a baby came into your life, than drop everything in order to try and keep it alive. So far, he was doing - if he said so himself - a fairly admirable job. Three weeks in, and sure, he didn’t have a cot or a changing mat, but he could tell the difference between Lou’s cries when she was hungry, and when she was tired, and he was beginning to fall into a routine with her. 

The first Friday movie night in January, he hauled Lou’s carrier round to Crutchie and Finch’s apartment, a few blocks over from his own. They had changed the time, so that it started at six, rather than seven, which he knew was to compensate for Lou’s early bedtime, though the others would never admit it. Lou still had a last burst of energy remaining from her mid-afternoon nap, and was awake in her carrier. The two of them were - again - some of the last to arrive, the notable exceptions being Davey and Race. 

Finch opened the front door, and gasped with delight to see Lou. 

‘Oh, sweetheart!’ he gushed, immediately leaning down and scooping her out of the carrier. He swept her up in the air, and she gurgled happily, settling into his chest as he cradled her close. Jack have a half-hearted wave to the others, all crowded onto Crutchie and Finch’s mismatched furniture. Jack and Lou were - again - the last to arrive, the notable exceptions being Davey and Race. 

Jack let Lou be swept up by his friends, immediately the centre of attention. He grabbed a bowl of chips, slumped down into a spare seat on the edge of the couch, and watched out of the corner of his eye as Lou was passed from person to person. 

Mere seconds later, a loud banging on the door startled them all - and sent Lou dissolving into tears. Jack sighed, put down his chips, and held his hands out. A rather panicked-looking Romeo handed her over, and Jack stood up, bouncing her very gently up and down, rubbing her back with one hand. It did little to quell her wailing, especially when Race tumbled through the door, followed by Davey, his face obscured by pizza boxes. 

‘Sorry, Jack!’ Race winced. Davey set down the pizzas on the table in front of the couch, and the others pounced on them like a flock of vultures. Jack rolled his eyes, but smiled at Race, and began to walk in circles around the room. Thankfully, it worked, and Lou’s cries began to dwindle to muffled hiccups. 

‘You okay over there, Jack?’ Race asked, turning round from where he was sitting on the sofa. 

‘Would you get me her bottle?’ Jack asked. ‘It’s in the bag.’ He pointed with a free hand. 

Race searched through the bag, eventually producing a bottle half-full of formula. He passed it to Jack, and, in one fluid motion that impressed even himself, Jack moved Lou down so that she was cradled against his arm, and he could hold the bottle to her mouth. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring quietly to her, almost unconsciously, as she fed. 

The room, he noticed, had gone very quiet. He looked up, to see everyone staring at him. 

‘What?’ he asked. 

‘That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,’ Katherine whispered. 

‘You’re a dad,’ Race said, and he sounded a little choked up. 

‘Shut up,’ Jack said, and glanced down. Lou seemed satisfied, so he took the bottle away, flicking the cap shut, and moved her back over his shoulder, patting her back gently. He could tell she would be asleep within moments. 

‘Specs, I want a baby,’ Romeo said. 

‘No, you don’t,’ Specs replied, kissing their boyfriend on the cheek. 

‘No, I don’t,’ Romeo said, not taking his eyes off of Jack and Lou, ‘but I do want that baby.’ 

‘Can you imagine you with a baby?’ Spot said, stifling a laugh. 

‘It’d be a nightmare,’ Specs said. Romeo frowned. And, just like that, the spell was broken, and everyone was laughing again, back to their overlapping conversations. 

Jack put Lou’s bottle back into his bag, and laid her down gently into her carrier, where she snuggled down quietly, but didn’t wake. He sat back down on the sofa, finding, to his dismay, the pizza was almost all gone. He sighed, and leant back in his seat. Sitting cross-legged on the floor at his feet, Davey nudged his calf. Jack sat back up, and looked down at Davey, who withdrew a pizza box from the little space between the sofa and the wall, with a mischievous smile. 

‘It’s Hawaiian,’ Davey said, and passed the box up. 

‘No way,’ Jack said, and opened the box. ‘Davey, you’re amazing.’ 

Davey just shrugged. ‘Save me a piece or two.’ 

‘You like Hawaiian?’ Jack asked, mouth already full of food. 

‘No, I’m not disgusting like you are,’ Davey said. Jack passed him a slice, and he began picking off the pineapple, dropping it back into the box, open on Jack’s lap. 

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Sarah, pointing at Lou, asleep in her carrier. ‘How long will she sleep for?’ she asked.

Jack shrugged. ‘Two hours, maybe? She’d sleep longer if she wasn’t in the carrier.’ 

‘Where’s her cot? In your room?’ Sarah asked. 

‘Uh - ’ Jack hesitated. ‘Well, uh - she doesn’t really have a cot. Yet.’ 

‘Where’s she sleeping then?’ Katherine asked. 

‘Uh...’ Jack trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. ‘In my bed?’ 

‘Sorry, what?’ Davey said, at the same time as five other voices made similar incredulous protests. 

‘She just sleeps like -‘ Jack looked even more embarrassed ‘- curled up next to me, usually. And by the time she’s asleep, I am too. I’ve been meaning to get a proper cot or something, but...’ he trailed off again. 

‘That’s adorable, but she can’t sleep like that forever,’ Specs said, always the voice of reason. 

‘Hold on, Jack, do you have anything for her?’ Kath said suddenly, furrowing her brow. 

‘I know, I know, I gotta get her a cot. I have, like, diapers and formula and stuff,’ he replied, defensive. 

‘What about - I don’t know, a changing mat? Or a pushchair? Or a playpen?’ Katherine suggested. 

‘Have you baby-proofed yet?’ Albert offered. 

‘Have I done what?’ Jack asked, confused. 

‘That poor child.’ Race shook his head, disbelievingly, then suddenly gasped. ‘Can we go to IKEA?’ 

‘Oh, my god, please can we go to IKEA?’ Albert begged. 

‘Who are you even asking?’ Jack said. 

‘I dunno.’ Albert shrugged. ‘Sarah and Kath? They’re basically in charge.’ 

Sarah and Katherine grinned at that, and Sarah pressed a lingering kiss to her girlfriend’s mouth. 

‘I think we’re going to have to,’ Sarah conceded, ‘Davey? Are you coming, too?’ 

Davey thought he was maybe a little offended at the implication he wouldn’t, but tried hard not to let it show. School started in a couple of days’ time, but if Katherine could find the time, then he most certainly could. 

‘I’m definitely coming,’ he nodded. 

‘That’s settled, then,’ Katherine said, ‘IKEA it is.’ She turned to the TV, and hit play on the movie. 

Jack just blinked, dazed and confused. 

*

A week later, Jack found himself loading himself and Lou’s carrier into the back of Davey’s tiny car, Racetrack in the front seat looking beside himself with excitement, and Sarah and Kath squeezed in too. Parked just behind them was Finch, with Crutchie riding shotgun, and Albert, Spot, Elmer, Romeo, and Specs all somehow crowded into the backseat. Albert waved at him, smacking both Spot and Elmer in the face as they did. Jack just rolled his eyes. 

‘No way,’ Race said, pointing at the carrier, ‘there isn’t room.’

‘What am I supposed to do with her then?’ Jack protested. 

Race smiled wickedly. ‘Carrier in the boot. You’ll find the other thing.’ 

Jack sighed noisily, and clicked the boot open. He took Lou out of her carrier, and picked up what he guessed Race had been referring to. It was a large piece of baby blue fabric, intended to be wrapped around both him and Lou to strap her to his front. He recognised it as his mom’s - he supposed she had little need for it, now that her youngest was already in school. 

‘This what you mean?’ Jack asked Race, as he climbed into the back seat, Lou on his lap. 

‘Yep,’ Race said, ‘Mama gave it to me to give to you when we were there at Christmas, I forgot about it until now.’ 

‘Seatbelt,’ Davey cautioned. Jack clicked himself in, and gave Davey a thumbs-up in the rearview mirror. 

The moment they had parked, everyone riding in the other car spilled out, rushing over to greet Lou. 

‘Hang on, hang on,’ Jack said, holding the crowds back. ‘Race, would you - ?’

Race took the piece of cloth, and held it up, squinting at it. He turned it around. Then upside down. Then around again. 

‘Oh, for - give it here,’ Davey said, exasperated. He took it, and folded it over, then tied a knot in one side. ‘Hold out your arms,’ he told Jack. Jack did so, and Davey slipped the fabric over his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. 

‘Hold this,’ Davey said, handing Jack a corner of fabric, ‘and pass me Lou.’ A little tentatively, Jack did so. Davey took her in both hands, cradling her head with his hand. A small smile played on his lips as he held her very briefly to his chest, adjusting the way that he was holding her, and then slipped her into the fabric so that she could curl against Jack’s chest.

Jack had never really noticed before, but Davey had very blue eyes. Or, rather, they were blue in the very centre, but, around the edges, they faded into a stormy grey. They would be very nice to paint, he thought. 

‘Jack?’ Davey said. 

‘Hm?’ Jack blinked.

‘Hold her in place,’ Davey instructed, patting Lou’s back absently. Jack did so, and Davey took the last bit of fabric, did some kind of complex folding and tucking and tying of knots, and then told him to let go.

When he did, Lou was bundled into the fabric and curled snug against his chest.

Davey looked up at him, and looked a little surprised to see him still staring. ‘All done,’ he said, with a smile. Kath’s hands flew to her mouth, and Sarah immediately took out her phone and snapped a photo. 

‘That is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,’ Spot whispered. 

Jack opened his mouth to respond, only to find it dry and quite empty of words. 

*

Race took a shopping cart as soon as they got inside, which was promptly confiscated by Specs. Albert, however, had gotten their hands on another one, which Race was halfway to climbing into, so that he could be pushed by Albert down the aisles at top speed. 

‘Divide and conquer?’ Sarah asked, already taking charge. 

‘Aye aye, Cap’n,’ Race said, saluting from where he was sitting, cross-legged, in the trolley. Albert was leaning against the handle, staring down at him with misty eyes. 

‘Kath, Spot, Elmer, come with me. We’re getting bathroom stuff. Albert, Race, find a high chair. And try not to get yourselves killed. Crutchie, Finch, you find a cot. Specs and Romeo, you’re in charge of baby-proofing materials. Davey... look after Jack. He looks like he’s gonna pass out. And find bedsheets.’ 

‘Got it,’ Davey said, grinning. 

‘Hey, I do not - ’ Jack started, but before he could finish, the others had dispersed across the store. Albert was already breaking into a run, Race cackling with glee. 

‘You do look a bit like you’re gonna pass out,’ Davey said, sheepishly. 

Jack groaned. ‘It’s so overwhelming.’

‘I know, I know.’ 

‘How do you even do it, Dave? Look after kids all day?’ 

‘I get to give them back to their parents at three-thirty,’ Davey reminded him, picking up a basket, and leading them towards where they stored bedsheets. 

‘Still,’ Jack grumbled, ‘they’re exhausting.’ 

‘You can say that again. Elephants or rocket ships?’ he asked, pointing to the two different designs. 

Jack looked down at Lou, like he expected her to answer the question. She batted her little fists. He gave her his finger to placate her, which she gripped on to with one tiny hand. 

‘Rocket ships,’ he said, firmly. 

‘Good choice,’ Davey said, ‘want to get a spare set?’

‘The ones with flamingoes?’ Jack suggested. That made Davey smile, though he wasn’t quite sure why. 

‘Got it.’ Davey leaned up on his tiptoes, and pulled down the flamingo-print bedsheets, putting them into the basket. His t-shirt - a novelty one from Spot and Elmer’s joint bachelor party in Vegas the year before - rode up a little, revealing an inch of skin just above the waistband of his jeans. It was gone again before Jack had even realised he was staring. He blinked, and shook his head a little. 

*

Gathered back at Jack’s one-bedroom apartment, a pile of un-built IKEA furniture before them, everyone seemed decidedly less enthusiastic than they had when Race was still hurtling down the shop aisles at top speed, blissfully unaware of the obstacles in his path. Lou had - thankfully - fallen fast asleep, and was now being put to bed by Jack. The rest of them were waiting for the first of them to make a move and figure out just how they were going to build this mountain of furniture. 

‘Hey, Race, you want an ice pack?’ Albert asked, breaking the silence. Everyone glared daggers at them - everyone, that is, except for Race, who had nothing but big, pink, cartoon hearts coming out of his eyes towards them. 

‘I’d love one,’ Race said. They both rushed away into the kitchen. 

‘I’ll start with the cot?’ Sarah said, finally. Everyone gave a begrudging grumble, by way of agreement. 

Rather surprisingly, teaching kindergarteners seemed to have given Davey adequate problem-solving skills to put together a baby’s highchair with the help of a screwdriver and a set of instructions, which Jack had open on his lap and was reading to him at regular intervals. The others, for the most part, weren’t having as much success as he was. 

Romeo and Specs had put together an utterly pitiful - and worryingly wonky - set of drawers, on top of which a new changing mat was sitting. At the angle it was currently at, though, Lou would be liable to slide straight off of it during a diaper change. 

Sarah had strong-armed Albert into helping her build a sturdy-looking cot, with no help from Katherine or Race. Katherine was reclined on the sofa, fanning herself with an instruction manual, and telling Sarah at regular intervals just how grateful she was that Sarah had chosen today to wear a very tight-fitting tank top. Race was being marginally more subtle, holding a pack of frozen peas to his head, and watching, wide eyed, as Albert shrugged off their flannel shirt to show the muscles in their arms. 

‘Our friends are hopeless,’ Jack muttered to Davey, gesturing unsubtly to Race and Katherine. 

‘You’re telling me,’ Davey muttered, ‘I live with Race. All day, every day, it’s ‘isn’t Albert so pretty’ this and ‘I want to eat syrup off their arm muscles’ that.’ 

Jack choked on a laugh at that, which coaxed a smile out of Davey. 

‘I did not need to know that,’ he said, through his giggles. 

‘You’re telling me,’ Davey said, darkly, ‘I’ve heard _much_ worse.’ 

‘Do not elaborate on that,’ Jack said, with a glance sideways at Race, who hadn’t even noticed that the pack of peas had begun to melt, and was trickling water down his forehead. 

*

Davey should have expected, he supposed, that Race would go over to Albert’s to watch a movie. It was almost pitiful to know that they genuinely were going to sit on Albert’s couch and watch a movie in its entirety, all the while sneaking glances at each other, and refusing to act on the tension between them. On those kinds of nights at Davey’s own apartment, he had found that scratching his own eyes out was often more enjoyable than spending as little as five minutes alone with the two of them. 

Race drifted out of the door behind Albert, promising Davey that he would text if he was going to be home later than usual. Davey knew he would forget, but the sentiment was nice. 

He most definitely hadn’t intended it to happen, but suddenly Davey was alone with Jack in his apartment, and everything was suddenly very quiet without the chatter of a dozen friends. 

‘Thanks for coming over,’ Jack said, once the door had clicked shut behind Race, ‘this is all so great.’ He gestured to the sitting room, and the new furniture and baby things scattered across the room. 

‘No problem. It was Sarah mainly, anyway,’ Davey said. 

‘I think we did a pretty good job on that highchair,’ Jack said, with a smile. 

‘We did,’ Davey replied. They collapsed into silence very quickly. Davey bit his lip, then spoke again, all in a rush, delving into his bag as he did. ‘I, uh, I got you something. For Christmas. I know it’s late, and it’s not even much, but, anyway - ’

Davey held out a small gift bag. 

‘Davey, you didn’t have to,’ Jack said, softly. 

‘I know, I know - it’s nothing really. Besides, I wanted to,’ Davey said, very quickly, ‘obviously I‘m never with everyone for Christmas, and Chanukah was later this year so I’m doing all my presents now, and, I don’t know, I figured I should get Lou something. It’s only small. And there’s something for you in there, as well. It’s really not much.’ When he finally finished, he realised how much he’d been babbling, and kicked himself internally. 

Jack, to his relief, hadn’t noticed, and was already busy unwrapping the present for Lou. He held it up with a surprised laugh: a stuffed Winnie the Pooh, small enough to sit on the palm of his hand, and a little blanket, patterned with all of the Winnie the Pooh characters. 

‘She’s gonna love it,’ he said with a smile, ‘hold on a second.’ 

Jack immediately rushed over to where Lou was sleeping in her cot to give it to her. 

‘Wait!’ Davey said, reaching out and placing a hand on Jack’s arm, ‘uh - babies actually shouldn’t sleep with stuffed toys, in case they roll over onto it or something. Give it a couple months.’ 

‘Oh,’ Jack said, and looked down at where Davey’s hand was resting on his arm. He blinked heavily, and then looked down at the toy in his hands. ‘Seems like I’ve still  
got a lot to learn,’ he said, laughing shakily. Seemingly unthinkingly, he squeezed the toy a little closer into him. Davey let his hand drop back to his side. 

‘You’ll get there,’ Davey said softly. 

Jack nodded. ‘Thank you, Davey.’ 

Davey felt his face flush, just a little. ‘Don’t mention it,’ Davey said, go on, open yours.’ 

Jack picked up the other present, and tore off a stripe of paper right down the middle, revealing a set of shiny new paintbrushes. As soon as he did, he looked up at Davey with a huge smile. 

‘I heard you saying to Race you needed new ones,’ Davey explained, a little sheepishly. 

‘Davey, these are from the nice art store downtown!’ Jack said, staring in awe. ‘I haven’t had time to go since...’ he trailed off, already opening the box to examine the brushes.

He took one out, a flat-ended brush with a blue wooden handle, and stroked it across his forearm, testing it out. 

‘This is fantastic,’ he said, earnestly. ‘You really didn’t need to, Davey. Most people didn’t get presents or anything. It’s not exactly like we had a baby shower.’ He laughed, but Davey could tell how appreciative he was. 

‘It’s the least I could do.’ Davey smiled back.  
‘I should, uh - I should get going,’ he said. 

‘Right, right, of course,’ Jack said, nodding, ‘thank you, again.’ 

‘Any time,’ Davey replied. 

‘Do you need me to call a cab, or anything?’ 

‘I have my car,’ Davey said, with a smile. ‘I drove you here.’ 

Jack frowned. ‘Oh. Right, yeah.’ He broke out into a smile. 

At the sight of that smile, something in Davey’s chest felt very warm, a comforting glow in the very centre, that didn’t quite subside that night. It was only in the morning that it would be gone - which he didn’t even notice, too distracted by the sound of Race clattering around in the kitchen, frying eggs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m on tumblr @weisenbachfelded! come say hi!


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see! hope ur all doing okay!
> 
> all the gilmore girls talk in this chapter is because of penzyrome’s incredible fantastic groundbreaking gilmore girls au. read it right now please.

Davey didn’t see Jack for a long time after their trip to IKEA. School started again, and suddenly he was spending six hours a day with only kindergarteners for company, his only solace Katherine, down the hall, teaching the fifth graders. 

To say he didn’t think about Jack wouldn’t quite be the truth - in actual fact, he thought about him a lot. He thought about Lou, asleep in her cot, and about the tired love in Jack’s eyes, and about the softness there was to Jack’s movements that he had never really noticed before. He wondered, sometimes, if it had always been there, and he had just never picked up on it, or if it was a newfound part of parenthood. 

To begin with, Race spent a lot of time at Jack’s apartment - which meant Davey spent a lot of time eating his dinner cross-legged on the living room floor, his plate on the coffee table, and an episode of _Gilmore Girls_ playing quietly in the background, trying not to spill food on his lesson plans as he scribbled down notes with his free hand. 

During the few dinners he spent with Race, he became suddenly very conscious of steering the conversation towards Jack. Race talked about Jack and Lou almost non-stop, and yet, when Davey dared to ask a question about them, it made him feel rather hot and prickly beneath his collar, almost as if he was a little ashamed. 

Jack, Davey learned, had just managed to get two weeks off of work, which were soon drawing to a close. Together with Race, he seemed to have formed a kind of routine with Lou, seemed to have forced his life to fit around her, even if it had been difficult and uncomfortable at first. Race spoke with a dreamy adoration in his eyes of Lou’s first smile, her first sounds that Jack insisted meant something specific, but that Race couldn’t decipher. 

Exactly what Jack was going to do with Lou once he went back to work, though, remained a mystery. As good as Spot was to him as a manager, the little café Jack worked in hardly had the capability to provide childcare. Race had his hands full of his upcoming engineering finals, and, though Davey suspected he wouldn’t exactly mind it, he couldn’t really afford to become a full-time babysitter. 

Every time Davey tentatively broached the subject, though, Race tended to start clearing the dinner plates away, or recount the story of Lou’s first bath-time for the millionth time. It was a great story, sure, but it worried Davey that there seemed to be no plan. He had a terrible instinct that Jack, Race, and Lou would end up all the worse for it. 

Oddly enough, Davey often found himself thinking about Jack’s art. He had been to countless small-scale exhibitions, marvelled over canvases leant against the walls of Jack’s apartment, snuck glances at sketchbooks left lying around at movie nights. Jack’s art always left him wanting more, he found - as though nothing could ever quite be enough to satisfy the wonder of standing before something he had painted. Davey knew he hardly had the time for it as it was. It seemed strange to put a name to it, but he found himself a little scared to think that Jack might leave art behind. Whenever that thought crept into his mind, though, he pushed it firmly away. That wasn’t his worry to focus on. 

*

It was a cold January evening, two days after Race had gone back to school, and Jack had gone back to work, when Davey next saw Jack. 

Davey was sitting with his feet tucked underneath him on the sofa, a ball of baby blue wool next to him, and his glasses on the end of his nose, as he concentrated intently on the rhythmic movements of his crochet hook. He was vaguely aware that he had the TV playing in the background, but he had long since stopped paying attention to it. He paused mid-row at the sound of Race’s key turning in the lock, and stretched out his hand where it was cramping, readying himself for a blow-by-blow recounting of Race’s day. 

At the _thunk_ of Race’s boots against the floor, Davey called out without thinking. 

‘Pick up your boots, Racetrack!’ 

‘Sorry, mom!’ Race called back, and then Davey heard laughter. Race spoke again, a little quieter, and then someone replied, in a lower, softer voice that Davey recognised all too quickly. 

‘I brought a friend home!’ Race called again, and the low voice laughed again. 

‘Hey, Davey,’ Jack called, and his voice sounded tired. Davey heard another pair of winter boots hit the floor, but more softly, as though they had been placed down more carefully. 

‘Hey, Jack,’ Davey replied. He set down his half-crocheted sweater, and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

Race skidded into the sitting room in his socks, still wrapped up against the cold in his duffel coat, hat, and scarf. 

‘Can we get takeout tonight?’ Race asked. 

Davey sighed. ‘I already cooked.’ 

Race made a face.

‘I made tacos,’ Davey offered. Race grinned and dashed into the kitchen, no doubt to eat food straight out of the pan resting on the cooker. 

‘Set the table while you’re in there!’ Davey shouted after him. 

There was no response. Davey sighed to himself, and rubbed his eyes again. When he looked up, Jack was stepping into view. All of a sudden, Davey forgot quite how to breathe. 

Jack was still wearing his coat, open at the front to show Lou swaddled in her blanket, her tiny face pressed close against his chest. One of Jack’s rested instinctively upon her back. He had a grey scarf on, and a dark red beanie on top of his curls. There were faint circles beneath his eyes, and a shadow of stubble across his jaw, like he had perhaps forgotten to shave that morning, and the morning before. 

‘Your tacos are the best, Davey,’ Jack said, with a half-smile, as he pulled off his scarf. 

‘Good thing I made extra,’ Davey said, a little feebly, ‘I don’t know how much will be left after Race is done in there, though.’ 

Jack took off his hat and coat, and briefly disappeared from the room as he hung them up in the hallway. 

‘He’s already eaten all the food at my place,’ Jack said, shaking his head as he came back in, ‘I don’t know how he has room.’ 

Davey laughed at that, and Jack had never noticed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he did so. 

‘Hey, I didn’t know you knitted,’ Jack said, pointing at the pile of blue wool next to Davey. 

‘Crochet,’ Davey corrected, and then went a little pink. ‘It’s a sweater.’ He held up the wool, and, sure enough, Jack could see the shape of the collar forming from row after row of tidy blue stitches. 

‘It’s really cool,’ Jack said, and smiled. Against his chest, Lou began to snuffle. Jack began to untie the blanket holding her to him. Davey shifted where he sat, reaching for the TV remote. Jack looked up at the TV, and gasped. 

‘I love this episode!’ he exclaimed. 

Davey gave him a quizzical look. ‘You watch _Gilmore Girls_?’ 

‘Don’t say it like that!’ Jack laughed. ‘It’s a good show.’ 

‘I know it is,’ Davey said, disbelievingly, ‘I’m just surprised you like it.’ 

‘Guilty pleasure,’ Jack shrugged, ‘especially the last few seasons.’ 

‘Oh, come _on_ ,’ Davey rolled his eyes, ‘it’s no good once Jess isn’t in it any more.’ 

‘You’re delusional, Jacobs,’ Jack said, airily, ‘Logan is Rory’s soulmate and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on.’ 

‘I bet you think _A Year in the Life_ is the best season,’ Davey said, scathingly. 

Jack was silent. He could feel himself turning a light shade of pink. 

‘You have to be joking.’ Davey said. 

‘It was the happy ending Luke and Lorelai deserved!’ Jack burst out. 

‘Whatever.’ Davey rolled his eyes again. ‘There was no excuse for bringing Logan back like that.’ 

‘Oh, so you’re telling me you _don’t_ think Rory and Logan have such a deep connection they can’t help but come back to each other even though their ending is ultimately tragic because theirs is the greatest star-crossed love story of all time?’ Jack said, all in one breath. 

‘Jack, I have an English degree,’ Davey said, ‘so no, I don’t think theirs is the greatest star-crossed love story of all time.’ 

Jack opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

‘Is he talking about _Gilmore Girls_ again?’ 

Davey and Jack both looked up. Race was standing in the doorway, a piece of toast in one hand. 

‘Racetrack Higgins,’ Davey exclaimed, ‘we are about to have dinner!’ 

Race just laughed, and went back into the kitchen. 

‘I set the table!’ he called behind him. Davey rolled his eyes. 

*

Bustling around the apartment that night, they felt like a strange sort of mixed-up family, the four of them. Each went about their business, interweaving with each other. Davey finished cooking dinner while the others sat at the kitchen table, Race finished an assignment for one of his classes, Davey swatted Jack’s hand away when he tried to eat some of the food before it was ready. 

Lou ate first, Jack holding the bottle to her mouth as she lay in his arms, his head bowed close to hers. His mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. Davey, dishing out the food, very nearly dropped a plate on his foot as he watched the movement of Jack’s lips, and tried to decipher what he was saying. What he did not notice was Race watching him watch Jack with a small frown, at once confused by Davey and distracted by Lou’s big brown eyes. 

Race made up a makeshift kind of bed for Lou, balancing couch cushions on top of each other to make her a place to sleep where she couldn’t roll over and off onto the floor. Jack crouched next to her until he was certain she was asleep - and even then, he stayed a little longer. 

‘Dinner’s gonna get cold, Jackie,’ Davey said, looking around the doorframe into the sitting room from the kitchen. 

Jack looked up at him, one finger still enclosed in Lou’s tiny fist. Davey had an odd sort of expression on his face - a tired kind of concern, but there was a look in his eyes that Jack could find no name for. It was only there for a split second, before he smiled, wiped his hands on the tea towel slung over his shoulder, and then he was gone. Jack stood up, took one last long look at Lou, and then bent back down again. He kissed her tiny forehead, and smiled as she sighed sleepily. 

In the kitchen, Davey had set out the tacos so that they could help themselves. Jack had eaten many dinners here on many different occasions - all of their friends crowded round, ten to the table; just him and Race, with bills on spread out in front of them and their heads in their hands; with all of his siblings, one of their mother’s recipes in the oven. Never, he thought, absently, just him and Davey. That wouldn’t make sense, for them to be together without a middle-man, without some joining reason be together. 

That had always seemed strange to him, in a normal kind of way. He liked Davey - he liked him a lot; he was funny, and kind, and he was a good cook, and they watched a lot of the same shows, and he always had funny stories to tell about the kindergarteners that he taught. It would make every sense for them to be closer friends than they were, but it had just never worked out that way. In an odd way, Jack found himself a little disappointed that having a baby would land him with even less free time than he’d had before - and even less of an opportunity for him and Davey to be real friends. 

But Jack liked this, he liked this weird little set-up, in Davey and Race’s kitchen, with their mismatched cutlery and novelty plates. Today, Jack’s plate had two cartoon olives printed in the centre, with the phrase ‘ ** _olive you!_** ’ printed above them, and little red hearts all around. He dished food onto his plate, and Race poured him half a glass of cheap supermarket wine, and his fork felt disproportionately heavier in his hand than his knife did. 

‘So you’re back at work this week?’ Davey asked, even though he already knew that Jack was. 

‘Yeah,’ Jack said around a mouthful of taco, ‘hey, this is amazing, Davey.’ 

Race mumbled his agreement. 

‘Thanks,’ Davey said. ‘Is it okay? With Lou, and everything?’ 

‘Yeah, it’s okay,’ Jack said, dismissively, ‘not perfect, obviously, but okay.’

They fell silent for a moment. Davey wanted so desperately to press further, to play out every one of his worries until he had been firmly reassured that both Jack and Lou were okay, were going to be okay. 

‘You should come by sometime,’ Jack said, ‘I’ll give you my staff discount.’ 

‘It’s kind of in the opposite direction from work,’ Davey said, apologetically, ‘but I’ll try sometime.’ 

*

Davey allowed himself one more question before Jack left. Or, rather, it was _as_ Jack left, barely a half hour after dinner, telling them both that Lou really had to get back to her own bed, and that he had to be up early the next morning for work. 

‘Will we see you again soon?’ Davey asked, not looking at Jack, as he said a quick goodbye to Lou. 

‘Uh - yeah, hopefully,’ Jack said, although Davey couldn’t help but feel like he sounded awfully tired. 

‘Yeah, come for dinner again soon,’ Race said firmly. 

Jack nodded, and hugged Race quickly. 

‘I’ll come down with you,’ Race said, seemingly unconvinced. Davey watched the door swing shut behind both of them, neither looking back. He stayed stood there for rather longer than he needed to, staring at the spot where Jack had stood just moments before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school is so goddamn difficult why did nobody warn me about this?? finding time to write gets harder but i really love it and comments kudos etc make it all worthwhile so leave them pls!  
> i’m on tumblr @ weisenbachfelded xo


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realise hardly anyone in this fandom is a ralbert stan but uhhhh i don’t care. rip to sprace stans but i’m different

Davey often wondered exactly why it was that Jack’s absence was so noticeable to him. It must have been, he convinced himself, that Jack seemed missing entirely from everyone’s lives. 

The winter break being over, everyone seemed to have settled back into the routine of the new year, of their jobs, of school, of early morning shifts, of homework, of movie nights, of fleeting coffee breaks when they had the time. 

Race was in class for most of the day - and when he wasn’t in class, he was at the library, or studying over at Albert’s. And by ‘studying’, Davey knew that Race truly did mean that he and Albert sat with their books spread around them and tested each other on their notes, despite neither understanding a word of the other’s work. It was sweet, Davey knew, but it made him feel a little old to see them dancing around each other like kids in high school, and very alone to see the way they looked at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice. 

Jack, Davey supposed, would be back at work with Spot at the coffee shop below Spot’s apartment. The two had worked there ever since Spot had bought and refurbished the tiny café. Davey had been there several times, and it was, admittedly, utterly gorgeous, although there was something rather intimidating about Spot hollering coffee orders in his thick Brooklyn accent from behind a countertop that wasn’t quite short enough for him to see over comfortably. 

He missed his sister most of all in these busy weeks. Between his teaching and her stage-managing, they managed to find very few moments in which to overlap - which, he supposed, made his time with her all the more wonderful. Sarah was, to him, a blur of light and colour, and her life seemed to have gone by as such, despite being exactly the same length as his - give or take twenty minutes. 

On her first night off since winter break - a Monday, of all nights - Sarah invited him over for dinner with her and Kath. He very nearly didn’t go, until he realised that he would be seeing Kath all day at school, and wasn’t quite sure how to come up with a viable excuse that he could maintain to her face without dissolving into guilt. 

And so he found himself, at six-thirty on Monday night, driving the few blocks to Sarah and Kath’s apartment (because really, it was January and therefore much too cold to brave the walk), and leaving Race and Albert at home, their revision notes spread around them in the sitting room, Albert on the phone to the takeout place, and Race stealing glances at them across the coffee table. 

He pulled up outside the apartment and waited, just for a moment, in the car. He switched the engine off, and rested his forehead on his hands on the steering wheel, and waited until the car became too cold to bear. Then, he took a deep breath, and braved the outside. 

*

Katherine answered the door in her pyjamas, her glasses on and a red pen in her hand, a pile of fifth-grade spelling tests on the table behind her. 

‘Hey, Davey!’ she said, and hugged him with far too much enthusiasm for someone who had seen him not three hours ago at work. 

He heard a clatter in the kitchen, and then Sarah rushed out and ran straight towards him. He lifted her up into a hug, squeezing her tightly. 

‘I missed you!’ she said, into his shoulder. 

‘I missed you too,’ he said, setting her down. ‘Did you get shorter?’ 

‘Fuck you,’ Sarah frowned, and punched him on the shoulder. She marched off into the kitchen, speaking over her shoulder as she did. ‘Come and chop bell peppers for me,’ she commanded. 

‘Yessir,’ Davey mock-saluted, which went unnoticed by Sarah, but which made Katherine laugh as she settled back down into her seat at the kitchen table to continue with her marking. 

Davey took off his scarf and hung it up on top of his coat on a hook by the door. Above the hook was a photo in a frame, of him and Kath in high school, both still in costume after their junior year production of _Mamma Mia!_. They were both wearing platform boots and too much glitter, and they were laughing, and Katherine’s gaze could be traced to just behind the camera, where Sarah was taking the photo. A copy of the photograph was pinned up with blu-tack in his bedroom. 

Sarah chatted animatedly as they cooked the last few bits and pieces of their dinner. In a way, Davey was rather appreciative that he could get by with just the odd remark or laugh at one of her stories from her last few weeks at work, and also for the work chopping up vegetables. Every so often, Sarah would leave the kitchen, and go to see Katherine, as though they were joined together by some invisible string that went taut and pulled them towards each other if they spent too long apart. Whenever she did so, Davey concentrated even harder on the steady movements of his knife, and chopped carrots into even finer sticks. 

Sitting around their kitchen table, Davey found himself feeling, yet again, as though he was part of another strange little family, although this felt rather more like an intrusion. Sarah and Kath’s legs were just touching beneath the table. They stole food off of each other’s plates. They asked him questions about his day, about his kindergarteners and about the high school English classes he taught on a Friday, about Race’s engineering degree, about Race and Albert - all tag-team style. Words that begun on Sarah’s lips seemed to end on Katherine’s, their heads tilted quizzically sideways in mirror images of each other, they shared glances and small smiles that Davey couldn’t decipher - and that he found he didn’t particularly want to, anyway. 

They cleared away the plates together, and Katherine did the washing up and danced to Fleetwood Mac while Sarah laughed, and Davey dried the dishes. It made his gut twist to see the way they took every opportunity to touch one another - brushing fingers and shoulders and Sarah wiping soap suds off of Kath’s nose and Kath twirling her round to i>Go Your Own Way/i>. Once the plates were stacked in the cupboards and the cutlery in the drawer, Davey made his excuses. 

Sarah punched him on the arm and promised to call, though he knew he would be lucky to get so much as a text or two before he saw her again, such was her busy schedule. Katherine made some joke that wasn’t actually that funny about work tomorrow. They both bid him goodbye - until Friday’s movie night, at least - and, at long last, he was in their hallway, and everything felt very quiet, like the silence when you go into a bathroom at a party. 

In an apartment across the way, he could hear a couple having a noisy argument. In another, he could hear two quiet voices, and the low hum of laughter. He waited for the elevator, and when it arrived, the doors opened to reveal a pair of twenty-somethings with their foreheads pressed together and their hands clasped tight between them. They didn’t notice when Davey took the stairs. 

On the way home, he hooked up his phone to the car stereo with an aux cord that had wires poking out of the side, and that only worked if you positioned it at exactly the right angle. He played a podcast for a while, drowning himself in the comfortingly dull voice of some academic, until he had to brake suddenly at a set of traffic lights, the cord was jolted out of place, and static feedback poured like an all-consuming mist from the speakers. Davey pulled the cord quickly out from his phone, and drove the rest of the way home in dark silence. 

He braced himself as he turned the key in the lock and stepped into his apartment. Far from the quiet laughter and noise he had been expecting, the apartment had a gentle kind of silence hanging in the air, a stillness like that of a sunset - the kind where people stop to watch, ceasing conversations to catch their breaths. Almost afraid to disturb it, Davey closed the door behind him as softly as he could, and prised off his shoes, tiptoeing into the sitting room in just his socks. 

Race and Albert were asleep, side by side, on the sofa. Race still had some of Albert’s chemistry flashcards held loosely in his hand, and Albert, in turn, had some of Race’s scrawled engineering notes. Race’s head had, in his sleep, fallen onto Albert’s shoulder, and Albert’s hand had dropped to rest just millimetres from Race’s. Scattered around the room were pencils, empty takeout boxes, and small, screwed-up bits of paper that Davey could only assume came from some kind of paper-ball fight. 

Davey bent to pick up some of the takeout boxes, and two forks clattered quietly together as he did. Race didn’t move, but Albert blinked sleepily, and turned their head slightly. They let out a tiny gasp when they realised the position they were in, and immediately froze. It took a moment for them to notice Davey - and when they did, their eyes widened almost comically. 

Davey just laughed quietly to himself and shook his head. He made a waving motion with his hand that he hoped Albert would be able to interpret as telling them to go back to sleep. He took the takeout boxes into the kitchen to throw out, and washed and dried the cutlery. He filled up the kettle nearly halfway with water, and set it down, then left it to boil. 

To get to his bedroom, he had to pass back through the living room, where Albert was already back in the same position Davey had found them in. 

Still being as quiet as he could manage, Davey hung his coat on the back of his bedroom door, and his scarf on top of it. 

He picked up a blanket - a soft grey crocheted one he had made years ago - from where it was draped over the back of a chair. He rolled it up tightly, and went back into the living room. 

‘Al! Heads up!’ he whispered. Albert started, and lifted their head drowsily. Davey threw the rolled-up blanket, which Albert caught in one hand, not moving their other arm, which was now half-intertwined with Race’s. One-handed, they shook the blanket out, and spread it out over the two of them. It was a little too small to cover them both. Albert adjusted it slightly so that it covered Race entirely, and themself a little less. 

Davey went into the kitchen, where the kettle was billowing steam into the silence. He made himself a mug of camomile tea. By the time he passed back through the living room on his way to bed, Albert was asleep again. Davey wasn’t sure he had ever seen either of the two look so utterly at peace. 

*

Movie night that Friday was, as unquestionably decided by the rota, held at Albert, Crutchie, and Finch’s apartment. A fairly roomy place with big windows and a small balcony, it was so close to the train line that the whole place seemed to shake a little when the train rattled past. Davey had never liked that, but the three that lived there didn’t seem to mind it. 

So raucous was the group that they could easily have been mistaken for a crowd of fifty people, rather than their meagre eleven. By the time pizza arrived, it had become so noisy that Romeo had turned _Terminator_ up to almost the highest volume, which didn’t seem to be bothering anyone. Specs was curled up against Romeo’s side, half-engaged in a conversation with Finch, who lay sprawled across the floor, his attention focused primarily on Crutchie, catching popcorn in their mouth from where Albert threw it at them from across the room, stood on the kitchen table. Every so often, Albert would look down, as if seeking something, and they would lock eyes with Race, who would grin that twinkling half-smile that showed his dimples and made Albert look a little hazy. 

Sarah and Katherine were sitting cross-legged on the floor, sharing a bottle of red wine between them, and both laughing far too hard at whatever undoubtedly unfunny conversation they were having with Spot and Elmer. 

Jack was very, very noticeably absent - noticeably to Davey, at least. Nobody else seemed remotely perturbed that it was past seven-thirty, and he had made no signs of showing. The longer Davey thought about that, though, the more he became embedded in the realisation that Jack must have told everyone else in advance that he was going to be late. Or wasn’t coming. Not that it made a difference to Davey. It must be difficult, Davey thought, with a baby, to fit anything remotely like a normal social life in around it - not to mention, with a day job on the go. This thought landed Davey squarely back at his worries about Lou and what on earth it was she did - or was done with her - while Jack worked. Nobody else mentioned Jack or Lou, though, so Davey stayed very clearly away from the topic. 

Davey’s head whipped around at the sound of the doorbell, which filled him with a deep embarrassment and flushed his cheeks bright red when he realised what - or who - it was that he was searching for. He jumped to his feet to answer the door to the pizza delivery guy before anybody could take any notice of him. 

Everyone descended on the pizza like vultures the moment the boxes hit the coffee table. Davey managed to snatch himself two slices on a paper plate, and collapsed into the only free seat - right on the edge of the sofa next to Spot, already on his third slice. 

‘He’s not coming,’ Spot said, through a mouthful of pepperoni. 

‘Oh,’ Davey said, and looked intently down at his plate as he chewed. 

‘You keep looking at the door,’ Spot continued, ‘but he’s not late. He’s just not coming.’ 

Spot sounded very matter-of-fact, but Davey found it rather hard to detach his words from the sinking disappointment in the pit of his stomach. 

‘How’s he doing?’ Davey asked, putting an immense amount of effort into maintaining an even tone of voice. 

‘Yeah, he seems fine,’ Spot said, and then turned to Elmer, putting a gentle hand on his thigh and leaning in close. Davey took another bite of pizza, and looked down at the plain silver engagement ring on Spot’s fourth finger.

*

Perhaps it was the fact that the staffroom coffee machine was broken. Perhaps it was the pile of marking for his Friday high school class waiting for him at home. Perhaps it was the fact that five-year-old Ernie in his kindergarten class had managed to eat half a stick of glue before Davey noticed and prised it out of his sticky fingers. 

(Really, it had been quite clever of him to have managed to keep twisting the bottom so that he could eat more and more. Although perhaps ‘clever’ wasn’t quite the word to describe it. Needless to say, Ernie had spent an eventful afternoon with the school nurse.)

The fact remained that Davey left school the next Monday afternoon with a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, and a glowering need for a cup of coffee. 

He wasn’t quite sure what made him drive the extra few minutes out of his way to go to Spot’s coffee shop, but he found himself there nevertheless, feeling a little out of place among the suited businessmen on their breaks. 

‘Hey, Davey!’ Spot greeted him cheerily. ‘What can I get you?’ 

‘Double espresso, please,’ Davey said, weakly. 

‘One of those days, huh?’ Spot nodded knowingly. 

Davey handed over his coffee cup - a green re-useable one that had been a birthday gift from Race - which Spot took, starting to make his coffee. 

‘No Jack today?’ Davey asked, tentatively. 

‘Oh, are you looking for him?’ Spot asked, with just the right amount of surprise in his voice to make Davey’s stomach twist in a strange way. 

‘No, no,’ Davey said, hurriedly. ‘Just wondering.’ 

‘You just missed him,’ Spot said, over his shoulder as he poured frothy milk into Davey’s cup. ‘I just sent him to the shop for a loaf of bread.’ 

‘Oh,’ Davey said, and hoped he didn’t look too visibly disappointed. However, he supposed that he was unlikely to get another opportunity, so he leant against the counter, almost conspiratorially, looked quickly around him, and lowered his voice to a whisper. 

‘Hey, Spot?’ he asked. 

‘Mm?’ Spot turned around, shaking powdered chocolate onto the top of Davey’s coffee in the shape of a flower. 

‘Where - what happens to Lou? While Jack’s working?’ 

Spot blinked at Davey. The flower on the top of his drink turned into a shapeless brown blob. Slowly, Spot set the chocolate shaker down, and bit his lip. 

‘Why are you askin’?’ Spot asked, with a rather nervous laugh. 

‘Just wondering,’ Davey said, a little too quickly. ‘Hadn’t heard about her in a while.’ 

‘Look, Dave,’ he said, suddenly serious, ‘she’s fine. She’s being taken care of, you don’t gotta worry.’ 

‘That’s not very convincing, Spot,’ Davey said.

‘There’s nothin’ dodgy goin’ on!’ Spot said defensively. ‘Anyway, it ain’t like she’s yours or somethin’.’

‘Spot, you’re making it sound like something’s wrong.’ 

Spot laughed again. ‘Nothing’s wrong, Dave. Come off it.’ 

Davey rubbed his eyes with one hand, tiredly. ‘Just tell me where she is, Spot.’ 

He hesitated. ‘Fine. But you gotta promise you won’t tell no-one I showed you.’ 

‘ _Showed_ me?’ Davey said, incredulously. 

‘And you can’t get all preachy,’ Spot warned, ‘just ‘cause you’re a teacher.’ 

‘I’m not promising anything.’ 

‘ _Dave_.’ 

__‘Fine. Fine, just tell me already.’_ _

__Very slowly, Spot reached beneath the counter, and carefully lifted up Lou’s baby carrier, with Lou asleep in it, wrapped tight in a grey blanket._ _

__Davey let out a long breath that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and let his eyes flutter shut in mingled disbelief and exasperation._ _

__‘You’re kidding me,’ he said. ‘You have to be kidding me.’_ _

__‘I told you, no judging!’ Spot said. He leant into the basket, smiled, brushed Lou’s tiny, rosy cheek with his finger, and then lowered her back down beneath the counter._ _

__‘She stays there all day?’ Davey asked, still suspended in his disbelief._ _

__‘That sounds an awful lot like judging to me.’ Spot raised his eyebrows, and handed Davey his coffee. Davey took it, but didn’t drink._ _

__‘When does she eat?’_ _

__‘When Jack’s on break.’_ _

__‘What about when she cries?’_ _

__‘One of us takes her to the back room ’til she’s okay.’_ _

__Davey opened his mouth again, but simply closed it._ _

__‘See?’ Spot said, self-satisfied. ‘It’s all okay. Anyway, it’s only temporary.’_ _

__‘Right,’ Davey said, unconvinced, but still quite unable to decide how to continue pressing the point._ _

__‘Hey, I’ll tell Jack you dropped in,’ Spot said, and though Davey knew he was changing the subject, he let him do so._ _

__‘Sure,’ Davey said. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Spot. I’ll see you around.’_ _

__‘See you around, Davey,’ Spot replied._ _

__As Davey left, he saw Spot bend down, and tend to Lou in her carrier. He wondered, stupidly, if he should go into the shop across the road and see if he couldn’t accidentally run into Jack. Instead, he got back in his car, and downed half his coffee in one. It scalded the back of his throat painfully as he did so._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me about this fic in the comments or on tumblr @weisenbachfelded! i hope reading it brings you even a little bit of the joy i get from writing it


	5. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a big thank u goes to kathryn (scarlettroses on here! read her fantastic fics!) for letting me ask her about the kindergarten age kids she teaches! it has inspired lots of this chapter and lots of what’s to come. thank u!!

Davey was waiting at the kitchen table when Race tumbled through the front door that same night, Albert on his heels. 

Race’s smile died on his lips when he saw Davey sat there, his arms folded, his expression stony - from the way he looked a little disappointed, he had been expecting to see some kind of food ready and waiting on the table when he came in. 

(There was food ready, only Davey had switched the oven off and left the big pot of mac and cheese in there so that Race wouldn’t see it and get distracted.) 

‘Would you like to sit down, Race?’ Davey asked. If he was being honest, he enjoyed this a little more than he should - but the fact remained that he was not at all happy with Race, and this was pretty much the only way to go about telling him that. 

Race sat meekly down, still looking for dinner, but with the air of someone who knew exactly what he was being reprimanded for. 

Albert hovered in the doorway for a split second, then made eye contact with Davey, who cracked the slightest of sympathetic smiles, and nodded his head to the side. Albert rushed out of the room, closing the door quickly behind them. Davey waited until he heard them collapse onto the sofa in the sitting room before he turned back to look at Race. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Jack didn't have anywhere to take Lou?’ Davey asked, icily. 

Race sighed, deeply. He didn’t make eye contact with Davey. ‘He asked me not to tell anyone,’ he said finally. 

‘She’s sleeping underneath the counter. In her carrier. All day,’ Davey said emphatically. 

‘I know, I know,’ Race said, ‘it’s bad. But -’

‘I could’ve found a way to help, Race!’ Davey said, beginning to gesture a little with his hand. ‘We could have found something.’ 

‘There wasn’t a choice! Go on, think of one of our friends who isn’t too busy to look after a baby.’

‘Well, what about -’ Davey broke off, thinking, listing through all of their friends in his mind. Race raised his eyebrows. 

‘See? There wasn’t another choice,’ he repeated, ‘everyone works or goes to school full-time.’ 

‘You could’ve at least told us. We’d have figured something out, taken shifts, or -’

Race shook his head. ‘Jack wouldn’t want that. He wants to - I don’t know. I didn’t want to -’

‘You didn’t have to criticise him,’ Davey cut in, but his voice was gentle, rapidly losing any anger that he had started out with. ‘She needs taking care of, and he can’t do that alone. Neither can you.’ 

‘I think -’ Race started, and then stopped, and sighed again. ‘I think he wants to. I think he’s got this… this weird idea that he has to be able to do it himself, or else he’s not a good dad, or something.’ 

Davey bit his lip. That did sound like Jack. 

‘When was the last time you heard from him?’ Davey asked. 

Race shrugged. ‘A few days ago, maybe? But that was just a text. I haven’t spoken to him properly since he was over for dinner.’ 

Davey frowned. ‘I’ll ask Kath about it tomorrow,’ he said, ‘and see if she’s heard from him.’ 

Race was very quiet for a moment. 

‘I’m worried about him, Davey,’ he said, finally, in a very small voice. 

‘He’ll be okay,’ Davey said, reaching his hand across the table and squeezing Race’s comfortingly. ‘He knows you’re there for him.’ 

Race nodded, and then blinked several times, very quickly, as if determined not to let any tears fall. He smiled weakly at Davey, and withdrew his hand, then stood up and made a beeline for the oven. 

‘Aha!’ he said, triumphantly, and withdrew the bit pot of mac and cheese from the oven. ‘I told you, Al!’ he called in the vague direction of the sitting room. Albert opened the door to the kitchen very tentatively, and a smile spread across their face when they saw the food in Race’s hands. 

‘Hands off!’ Davey reprimanded. ‘It still needs warming up.’ He swatted Race away, but not before he had peeled off a large section of the crispy layer of cheese on top with his fingers. ‘Ugh, you’re disgusting,’ Davey grimaced as Race licked his fingers. 

Race just laughed, and fell back into his seat at the table, next to Albert. 

‘I was trying to hide this from you,’ Davey said, as he put it back into the oven and set a timer for a few minutes. 

‘I could smell your mac and cheese a mile off,’ Race boasted. ‘Anyway, I knew it’d be in the oven. You’re not as smart as you think you are, old man.’ 

Davey smacked Race round the back of the head. ‘Shut your mouth and set the table,’ he said, smiling a little when Albert tipped their head back and laughed at Race. 

*

The next morning was a cold and rainy Tuesday - one of those days in January that sent the cold hissing through every crack in the windowpane and seeped into the depths of Davey’s bones, chilling them right through. 

It went without saying, therefore, that Davey didn’t think he had ever been less enthusiastic to go to school. He spent a good ten minutes sat on the edge of his bed with his head drooping, willing himself to stand up and get ready. Eventually, his feet got too cold, and he resigned himself to having to get some socks from his drawer if he didn’t want his toes to fall off from frostbite. 

He cursed Race and his ten o’clock class as he pulled back the curtain and was greeted with near-pitch darkness. 

It was with a heavy kind of tiredness that he made himself a mug of coffee and some toast, and sat alone at the kitchen table with his phone in one hand as he ate. The ticking of the kitchen clock seemed almost to echo eerily. He watched it sombrely as the hour hand nudged closer to striking eight o’clock, and he was forced to venture outside. 

There was a thin layer of frost across the surface of his car, and he begrudgingly scraped it from the windshield with the edge of his credit card. His car was warm, and the radio comfortingly crackly, as he drove to school, singing quietly along to the radio and tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. Katherine waved at him from across the car park as he pulled in to his usual spot, before she disappeared quickly into the building. 

He saw her again in the staffroom, leaning back against the counter as she waited for the coffee pot to brew. She had set out two mugs on the side, which brightened the cold, tired edges of his mood. They hardly spoke as she poured them both coffee, and they trudged around the staffroom, interweaving with the other teachers, fetching papers from their pigeonholes, laughing quietly at each other’s jokes. 

Davey dared to bring Jack into conversation midway through the morning, on break duty with Katherine, watching the kids scream and run around with their coats hanging on by the hood and flapping behind them like capes. 

‘Race wanted me to ask if you’d heard from Jack recently,’ he said, and felt immediately a little guilty. He could feel his cheeks turning redder by the second, and gave silent thanks that it was cold enough for Kath not to notice. 

‘No, I haven’t,’ Kath said, and frowned at him. ‘Is everything okay?’ 

Davey gave what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. ‘I’m sure it is,’ he said, ‘he’s probably just busy with Lou.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Kath said, but she didn’t sound convinced. ‘It’s not like him to go completely off the radar like this, though.’ 

Davey opened his mouth to respond, but was distracted by two girls in his class running up to him. 

‘Mr. Jacobs!’ she called, excitedly, as she hurtled towards him. 

‘Hey, Zahra,’ he said, and crouched down to her level, ‘what have you got there?’ He pointed at her outstretched hand. Her friend, a girl with curly brown hair in messy pigtails named Ruth, peered over her shoulder. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘You have to keep it a secret,’ she said, and looked sideways at Katherine. 

‘Sorry, Miss Plumber,’ Davey said, ‘this is strictly private business.’ Katherine nodded, understandingly, and turned away, heading off in the direction of the other teacher on break duty. 

Satisfied, Zahra unfurled her tiny little fist to show a worm sat on her palm. Ruth let out a sigh of wonder. 

‘Wow, Zahra,’ Davey said, biting his lip to keep from laughing at both the girls’ sheer, unabashed awe, ‘where did you find that?’ 

Zahra pointed across the yard to a flowerbed. 

‘It escaped from the flowers,’ Ruth said, conspiratorially. 

‘Shall we make sure it gets back home?’ Davey asked. Both girls looked at each other for a moment, as if checking whether or not they trusted him. Then, seemingly having come to an agreement, they turned back to him, and nodded. 

Together, they took the worm back to the flowerbed, where Davey showed them to put it back in the soil where it was most damp. He left them both bent right over, watching as the worm burrowed back into the earth, and promising that they would wash their hands as soon as the worm went back to his underground home. 

From across the yard, Katherine smiled at him, an indiscernible kind of smile that looked strangely like she knew something that he didn’t. 

*

Even for a kindergarten teacher, Davey knew that he indulged in the kids’ love of arts and crafts a little too often. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him from designating two afternoons a week to craft projects - and so he found himself, as usual on a Tuesday afternoon, covered in unspeakable amounts of glitter. Today’s craft was painting with glitter - spreading glue on paper in shapes, sprinkling glitter, and shaking off the excess to leave pictures in sparkly red, blue, and green. 

As much as the mess was horrific, Davey smiled more on these afternoons than any other time of the week, as he rushed from table to table, praising work and helping clumsy little hands. 

It was needless to say, therefore, that he hardly heard the knock at his classroom door just as he was about to give the orders to start clearing up. 

‘Mr. Jacobs!’ whined a voice. ‘There’s a man at the door!’ 

‘Thanks, Douglas,’ Davey replied, ‘glue on the paper only, please!’ 

He went to the door anticipating one of the other teachers, or perhaps the vice principal. When he opened the door to see Jack standing there, baby carrier in hand, it felt suddenly as if all of the air had been knocked out of his chest. 

‘Jack,’ he said, rather stupidly. 

‘You have glitter in your hair,’ Jack replied. Davey’s hand jumped immediately to his hair, and raked through it, with an awkward little laugh. 

‘Sorry, it’s craft afternoon. Um. Crafternoon.’ Davey pointed sheepishly to the interactive whiteboard, where, sure enough, the words ‘ **Tuesday Crafternoon** ’ were typed in blue WordArt. 

Jack blinked again, and the world suddenly came crashing back down around him. Twenty kindergarteners were yelling and laughing in the classroom behind Davey, covered head to toe in glitter. 

‘Shit, Davey, I’m sorry,’ Jack said, hastily. ‘I thought you’d finished teaching -’ he took out his phone, and checked the time, trying to figure out exactly what he had gotten wrong. 

‘We finish at three-fifteen,’ Davey said. 

‘Three-fifteen,’ Jack repeated. ‘Shit. Shit! I can’t swear in front of kids, can I?’ 

Davey just gave him a soft smile. ‘You probably shouldn’t,’ he said, gently. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ Jack said, again. ‘I - I should -’

‘I’ll be done in -’ Davey looked up at the classroom clock ‘- twenty minutes? Do you want to wait?’ 

‘I - yeah.’ Jack felt himself crumple a little. ‘If that’s okay.’ 

‘Of course,’ Davey said, and his voice still had that sweet softness to it that Jack was certain he had never heard before - or, at least, had never heard directed towards him. 

‘Mr. Jacobs!’ a panicked voice called from across the classroom. 

Davey whipped around, and then sighed. ‘Oh, Douglas, I told you, glue goes on the paper!’ 

The kid that Jack assumed must be Douglas - a boy with sandy hair and a glue-covered paintbrush in his hand - had accidentally painted a long stroke of glue down the side of another girl’s face. The girl had wide eyes and her mouth hanging open in shock, as she raised her fingers to her face. She turned furiously on Douglas as she brought them away, covered in glue. 

‘Give me the brush, please, Douglas,’ Davey said, in what Jack guessed was his firm, authoritative teacher voice. Douglas meekly handed the brush over. ‘And what should you say to Cassie?’ 

Douglas pressed his lips together and looked at the ground. ‘’M sorry, Cassie,’ he said. 

‘Thank you, Douglas,’ Davey said, and turned to Cassie again. 

‘It’s okay,’ Cassie said, airily. Jack almost laughed. He got the impression that Cassie thought herself rather mature beyond her years. 

‘Okay,’ Davey said, ‘let’s get you cleaned up.’ He took Cassie over to the sink, crouched down next to her, and carefully wiped the glue off of her face with a paper towel. He must have said something else funny that Jack couldn’t quite make out, because by the time they were done, Cassie was giggling again, her spat with Douglas all forgotten. 

Davey stood up again. ‘Time to start tidying up!’ he called to the class. He was met with some groans and little enthusiasm, but the class began to pack their things, sweeping glitter into the bin and putting their brushes back into little pots in the centre of the table. 

Davey made his way quickly back over to Jack. 

‘We’re nearly done, I promise,’ he said, ‘there’s a bench just outside. Wait there?’ 

Jack could only nod. 

*

Davey came out, as promised, just over twenty minutes later, the majority of the glitter gone from his hair. Jack had Lou in his arms, as she made small noises that were almost sobs, but that he just managed to stifle by rocking her from side to side. 

‘Sorry about that,’ Davey said, with a tired smile. 

‘God, no,’ Jack said, quickly, ‘don’t be. I’m the one who just - who just showed up here.’ His voice was unsteady, almost as if he were closer to tears than Lou. 

Davey sat down on the bench next to him. ‘What’s going on, Jack? You never come here.’ The second part of that sentence, the noting that he _never came to Davey_ went entirely unspoken. 

Jack opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He looked at the floor, then around him, then closed his eyes, very briefly. 

‘I - I need help,’ he said, finally, in a very small voice. Lou, in his arms, stopped her snuffling. He looked down at her, gave a small smile, and then gently set her back down into her carrier, where she sighed quietly in her sleep. 

‘What do you mean?’ Davey asked.

‘You’re a teacher. You... I dunno. You understand kids.’ 

‘I - Jack, I’m confused.’ 

‘I don’t know how to be a dad,’ Jack said, and there was a sense of urgence in his voice, a quiet kind if desperation. ‘I don’t know how to do any of this and - and I didn’t know who else to go to.’ 

‘Jack, I teach kindergarten. I don’t know much about...’ Davey gestured helplessly towards Lou’s carrier.

‘More than anyone else we know, though.’ Jack truly sounded desperate now, more than Davey had ever heard before.

‘I - okay. Okay, I’ll help. What do you need?’

‘You will? Really?’ Jack let out a laugh in relief, and pulled Davey into a hug. It took a moment for him to respond, such did it take him by surprise.

‘What do you need?’ Davey asked, when he pulled away. Jack looked dumbfounded, like he couldn’t fathom that Davey would ask such a thing. 

‘I - I don’t know,’ Jack said. It dawned on Davey that Jack didn’t seem to have got this far in his plan. 

‘We could start by having this conversation somewhere that’s not my school?’ Davey suggested. Jack laughed at that, albeit a little nervously. 

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘‘yeah, that’d be good.’ 

‘Hang on,’ Davey said, ‘how did you get here?’

Jack went a little red and looked down at the floor. 

‘You walked here?’ Davey asked.

‘Yeah.’ Jack shrugged. ‘It’s not far. Besides, it gets her off to sleep.’

‘But Jack, it’s so cold!’ 

‘’S’not too bad,’ Jack shrugged again. 

Davey sighed. ‘Let me clear up a couple more things, and we can drive back to your place.’ 

‘Really?’ Jack said, looking yet more taken aback. ‘Now?’

Davey tilted his head a little to one side. ‘Yeah, if that’s okay.’ 

‘It’s more than okay,’ Jack said. ‘Do you need any help?’ 

‘You could grab the dustpan and brush?’ Davey suggested. ‘There’s a lot of glitter to clear up.’

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from the hozier song of the same name, because of this verse:  
>  _why don't you try on me?  
>  why don't you take me home?  
> i’ll match the colour scheme  
> of your bedroom walls  
> oh, take a dose of me  
> it doesn't hurt at all_


End file.
